


Darkened Shadow

by Aspire_to_Inspire



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kirisaki Daiichi High - Freeform, Kuroko whump, Seirin High - Freeform, Whump, hurt!Kuroko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 20:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspire_to_Inspire/pseuds/Aspire_to_Inspire
Summary: Seirin knows they will have to face Kirisaki Daiichi and Hanamiya's underhanded tactics in the next season, so Kuroko devises a strategy to shut them down definitively. But when Hanamiya's team has their rough play exposed, ruining their chances in the tournament a second time, the captain's anger towards the phantom pushes him to take revenge outside the court--much to the horror of both Seirin and the GoM.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of "To Know A Shadow," but can be read alone. This is where some heavier whump gets heaped on poor Kuroko, so watch out!

Kagami remember their rematch with Kirisaki Daichi well. Kiyoshi had been on the bench for moral support, but that had only made tempers flare even higher as his presence there instead of alongside them in the starting lineup kept the opposing team's sins fresh in their minds. And there facing Kagami had been Hanamiya, still with two good knees and a rotten grin splitting his face.

The part of Kagami that hadn't been consumed with rage had been glad they'd been matched up with the aggressive team so early on in the tournament; if they defeated them, fewer teams would lose by being beaten to a pulp. And this time Seirin hoped to shut them down in a far more permanent fashion.

The first quarter had ended with the score pulling even and everyone bruised, except for Kuroko, who was already soaked in sweat and gasping despite having hardly been made use of by his teammates.

“He's pretty slippery, huh?” Hanamiya had laughed to Kagami. “Shame he can't pass, but who can blame him when he's running himself ragged just to stay out of the crosshairs?” Then he'd leered in close, daring Kagami's clenched fist to take a swing at him. “But he'll get his turn once we've run him down. Hope he doesn't break easy.”

It had happened halfway through the next quarter. A whistle had blown, and Kagami had looked up to see his shadow on the ground and a Kirisaki Daichi player standing in front of him. Kuroko had gotten up calmly as the player stared after him, not sure how he'd collided with the phantom. 

Then came the miracle: the next time Hanamiya's elbow had caught Kagami in the ribs, a beautiful sound had rung out over the court.

“Foul!”

Oh, the look on his face! Kagami, trying to keep his cool, had just grinned wolfishly, catching Kuroko's eye in silent congratulation. The shadow had been bent over, huffing, but his gaze had been razor sharp.

Kuroko had been attending Kirisaki Daichi games for while, trying to find a way to expose them. Since he couldn't direct the attention of the referees the same way he did the players, Kuroko had determined all he had to do was use his misdirection to put himself between the referee and the player who was meant to be blocking their vision of the foul. It had taken no small amount of observation to figure out how they coordinated their underhanded attacks. He had to get the timing just right, or the player would regain his senses and simply pass him quickly enough to still obscure the foul. The end result had been that Kuroko could predict where the foul was, which ref's eyeline he needed to protect, and who was going to block it.

Two players had soon been sent off the court for flagrant fouls. Kagami had caught Hanamiya sending downright chilling glares in Kuroko's direction, clearly having figured out what the problem was. It would have been hard not to notice; more often than not, even if Kuroko didn't get the original foul called, he'd usually ended up with his own when surprised players had slammed into him before they could stop—then, as their frustration grew, because they didn't want to stop. 

Kuroko's strategy had served its purpose: Kirisaki Daichi had to be cautious, with so many of them on the brink of expulsion. But since it had also exhausted Kuroko and gotten him a few bruises of his own, he'd been subbed with Mitobe.

Kagami hadn't been worried; with all the free throws and throw ins they'd been awarded, combined with the sudden lack of physical pressure, Seirin had been pulling away. As the end of the game had drawn near, Hanamiya had ordered a return to their previous strategy, and Kuroko had been subbed in to counter it once again. This time he'd struggled, since his opponents now knew to expect him and were ready to drive past him when he appeared. But the refs had caught onto Kirisaki Daichi's tactics, and had continued to catch enough fouls to expel yet another player.

“What?!” Hanamiya had spat at the official.

“Foul of violence,” the ref had called back sternly. “Number 4, you are ejected from the game.”

Kagami remembered the stunned silence, and Hanamiya standing there, seething, his dark eyes locked on Kuroko yet again. But he had to move eventually: failure to leave after being ejected gave the officials authority to award the game to Serin automatically. The point guard had started walking, but stopped right in front of Kuroko.

Everyone had tensed, including the referees, and Kagami had been seized with dread. He didn't dare start anything, but if Hanamiya did he would get there far too late. Only Kuroko had seemed calm, staring up at the taller player, either certain he wouldn't throw a punch or certain he could take it if he did. Knowing him, either one was likely.

But Hanamiya, even with his whole body tensed like a snake about to strike, had done nothing. He'd only said, in the steadiest, blackest voice Kagami had ever heard: “We'll pay you back for this. You _personally. _” Then he'd stalked off, past the bench and heading for the locker room, as per the rules of ejection.__

____

Kagami hardly remembered the rest of the game, not even their winning score. Though he had felt elated when the dirty play was finally exposed, the game they had won was hardly satisfying basketball. Still, Kuroko had been mobbed by the team, high-fives had been offered and arms thrown over his shoulders, and while he and Kagami had shared a fist-bump Coach had expressed her pride in all of them for their excellence in besting Kirisaki Daichi's legitimate talent as well as their underhanded tactics.

____

Kagami had kept Hanamiya's threat in the back of his mind all throughout the Winter Cup, just in case he tried to pull something. But now, over a month later, Kagami turned his worry to the next time they would play Kirisaki Daichi, and what trouble Kuroko might end up in as the target of twice the revenge coming from the aggressive team. But with Hanamiya graduating before then, the point guard wouldn't get the chance to start anything on the court. Would he be satisfied with vengeance by proxy? Would he try to settle his score off the court, maybe to stop Kuroko from playing?

____

He would be there, Kagami insisted to himself. Whatever it was, they'd deal with it. But he couldn't quite shake the most dangerous possibility of all:

____

What if Hanamiya wasn't willing to wait that long?

____


	2. Chapter 2

He was on his way home from Maji Burger again when he passed by the alley and heard fighting. He stopped and took in the scene half-obscured by a dumpster: it looked like a mugging in progress, one dark figure knocking the other around. He may have been a boy with a strong sense of justice and an understated sense of self-preservation, but he wasn't without sense. A band of cut-rate thugs on a basketball court in broad daylight was a far cry from the much nastier things that could happen at night in places where people don't walk and street lights don't shine.

Fortunately (or so it seemed at the time), only a moment after he arrived on the scene the mugger took off down the alley, disappearing around the next bend, leaving their fallen victim behind. The boy's phone slipped out of his pocket and opened with a snap, ready to call for help before doing anything risky. But before his fingers could tap in the numbers, the figure on the ground was clawing their way to their feet and stumbling away. Afraid he would lose them, the boy ran after them.

“Hey,” he called, and the figure stopped, slumping against the wall with their back to him. The boy caught them by the shoulders and helped them to the ground. He reached for his phone again. “Are you al--?”

The body suddenly whipped around to face him, and he was plunged into darkness as something tightened sharply around his neck. His phone clattered on the cement as he instinctually grabbed at the thick bag over his head, but his assailant quickly knocked him flat on his back, pinning him down with their weight while yanking the drawstrings tighter. His strangled cry for help was lost in the heavy fabric.

“I got him,” a male voice said with quiet celebration. Then, it repeated in a hissed whisper, “I got him.” Amid smothered laughter and heavy footsteps, hands materialized to take hold of the boy's arms and legs, dragging him along despite his desperate struggling.

“Hurry it up, hurry it up!” insisted a new voice, before the boy felt the pressure ease from his neck and he was dumped into a space that was small, rough, and vibrating with the sound of a running engine. The trunk lid slammed over him with distinctive finality.

Kuroko Tetsuya had been well and truly kidnapped.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Kuroko tried fiercely to resist the panic racing through his veins right up until the floor stopped rumbling beneath him. His breath came in unsteady pants as the trunk lid opened, and he immediately launched himself over the car bumper and swung at the first person he saw. There was a crunch as his fist collided with a plastic face mask, but he didn't wait to see if he'd done any damage to its wearer. He bolted, making it just far enough to take in the shadowed shapes and metallic chill of a darkened warehouse before they tackled him to the ground. His sharp cry echoed off the metal walls as he was smashed against the concrete floor.

“You won't be slipping away this time, phantom.” Kuroko froze for an instant. He knew that voice. Its owner was crouched in front of him, wearing a plain white face mask that only left his eyes and mouth exposed, but Kuroko knew his dark hair, his poisoned black eyes.

Hanamiya, with a coil of rope in his hand.

They pinned his arms over his head and bound his wrists tight, but Kuroko gave them more trouble than they'd anticipated, yelling at them to let him go and thrashing with enough force to unseat the player on his back. Hanamiya sighed, left the length of rope trailing, and stepped away.

“Knew you were tougher than you looked. But we'll fix that.” Someone grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him upright just long enough for a punch to the jaw to send him back down.

“Not the face, alright?” Hanamiya called as two of them set him on his feet again. “We want his team to recognize him straight off.” The next blow obliged, knocking the air from his lungs instead.

They beat him mercilessly, back and forth between them, on the ground and up again until he was dizzy, throwing his bound hands up in meager protection. There were three of them aside from Hanamiya, who seemed content to stand back, grinning and calling out advice.

“I want him tenderized like a piece of meat.”

"Take care to those twiggy legs before he tries to run again!”

“Aw, just look at him: he can barely crawl.”

Kuroko was curled up on his side, struggling to breathe when they finally stopped. True to Hanamiya's wishes, his entire body pulsed with raw pain; even his hands had been stomped on. He looked up blearily to see Hanamiya standing over him.

“Think he's done yet?” one laughed. Hanamiya tilted his head.

“Let's find out.” He kicked out savagely, flipping Kuroko onto his back. One of the others grabbed the rope attached to his bonds and yanked his arms up, making him helpless to retaliate as Hanamiya planted his knees on either side of him, took hold of his shirt, and tore it open, sending buttons flying. He then flicked out a small knife, relishing the way Kuroko tensed with fear, and began slicing it through his sleeves. The last two pulled off his shoes, then made short work of his belt.

“No...stop...” he croaked and tried vainly to squirm away, only succeeding in making his captors laugh as they left him in nothing but his shorts, shivering as the cold floor pressed against his wounded flesh.

“He looks good to me,” snickered the one at his head, taking in the extensive bruising. Hanamiya settled more firmly on his chest.

“Well then, now that you're ready we can have our fun. I think I speak for everyone when I say I've always wanted to properly string someone up.”

Kuroko couldn't stop his heart from hammering as they descended on him with more ropes and bound him at the ankles, knees, and elbows. Hanamiya shoved a soft yellow ball the size of an apple into his mouth, wedging his jaw open and trapping his tongue, then wound more rope around his head so he couldn't dislodge it. They dragged him underneath one of the catwalks, tossed a rope over one of the iron supports, and hoisted him up by his knees until he hung upside down with his fingers just brushing the ground. As Kuroko fought the very dangerous urge to vomit, he couldn't tell what else they were doing until one of them squatted down in front of him.

“Now this,” the player stage-whispered conspiratorially, “is the real fun part.” He stood up, and with a tremendous jerk the rope on Kuroko's wrists went taut. His elbows went back behind his head, his hands stretched toward his dangling feet, and his back arched to an impossible degree. His scream was muffled by the gag as they continued to pull, forcing his body to curl backwards, tighter and tighter.

“And for the final touch...” Hanamiya tugged at the rope trailing from Kuroko's ankles, looped it around his neck, and pulled.

Absolute panic flooded Kuroko's system as the tension of the rope pulled back against his neck, cutting off his windpipe. Desperate for air, all he could do was twist painfully in his bonds and pray that his captors didn't plan to kill him, they didn't plan to kill him, they _didn't _...__

____

Another yank on his arms sent fire crackling through his body, but relieved the pressure on his neck.

____

They went on like that: tightening one rope, then the other, strangling and contorting him by turns, until he thought his body would rip in two. By the time they at last decided he had reached his limit, tears were streaming down his face as pain lanced constantly through his over-strained shoulders, chest, stomach, and spine. The ropes burned wherever they touched him from the prolonged suspension and his involuntary struggles. The pressure on his ribcage made it difficult for his lungs to inflate, and between the gag and the rope that still forced his head to arch back, there wasn't enough air reaching them in the first place.

____

To just leave him hanging there would have been punishment enough, but Hanamiya thought otherwise.

____

They burned him with cigarette lighters, dragging them slowly across his torso, his back, his arms and legs. He was helpless to do anything but whimper, as even the slightest attempt to get away from the heat redoubled the pain of his restraints. It felt like he'd been snared there for days, but they'd worked fast, compressing an eternity of torture into the space of hours.

____

When they pulled back, Kuroko's mind was so hazy the only thought he could hold onto was that of breathing. When Hanamiya appeared, almost face-to-face with him now, fear seeped coldly into his bones. He hadn't seen, hadn't payed attention, didn't know what could possibly be coming next...

____

He grabbed Kuroko by the hair, flicked his knife open and cut through the ropes one by one: gag, elbows, wrists, ankles, knees. Kuroko crashed to the ground, held upright only by the handful of hair that Hanamiya twisted harshly, then dropped.

____

The phantom player lay still; movement seemed unfathomable. His fingers twitched toward the ball in his mouth as he tried to dislodge it, but they were stiff and utterly numb.

____

“Ah, ah, ah...” Hanamiya chided. He took hold of Kuroko's jaw and turned his face toward him. “You aren't done screaming just yet,” he crooned. His thumb pushed the ball deeper into Kuroko's throat with a wet squish until the smaller boy choked, then withdrew. “We have one more gift to give you. Then...” There was a tearing sound, then Hanamiya forced Kuroko's jaw closed and sealed it shut with a length of tape.

____

“...we'll wrap you up nice, and send you home to your team.”

____


	3. Chapter 3

Kagami was a bit irritated with Kuroko. Last night, only a little while after he said goodbye to him at Maji Burger, the phantom had sent out a mass text to the whole Seirin team, asking them to meet him in the gym before school the next morning. When more than one of them had texted back asking for clarification, he had replied with two words: “It's urgent.” Any further questions had gone unanswered.

It wasn't that coming to school a little early put Kagami out that much, but the fact that his shadow had dropped absolutely no hint that anything was wrong the night before rankled him. Kuroko was much more open now, with him as well as the team, than he had been when he first joined Seirin. If this was about basketball, who better to tell than his partner? And if it wasn't...well, Kagami wasn't _only _his partner, right?__

____

Not for the first time, Kagami tried to shake this weird sense of disappointment. Maybe there hadn't been anything to tell last night. Maybe something had come up after he got home, like his parents were taking him on a trip suddenly. Kagami snorted to himself. It would probably be something stupid, like the time when, after he'd spilled his guts about Teiko, Kuroko had sat there looking like Nigou with his ears drooping, expecting to be cast out of the team's goodwill. If it was, Kagami couldn't wait to be the first to set his shadow straight.

____

When he arrived at the gym, he found Riko, Hyuuga, and Izuki standing at the door, looking stymied.

____

“Yo. What's the matter?” Riko planted her hands solidly on her hips, glaring furiously.

____

“The doors are jammed. Somebody broke something off in the locks. All of them!”

____

“It'll be fine,” Hyuuga assured. “We sent Furihata to get the janitor. This kind of thing happens as a sort of vandalism/prank thing sometimes, so he'll know what to do.”

____

“Hey, you didn't see Kuroko-kun on your way, did you?” asked Riko, craning her neck as though expecting the phantom to be hiding behind him. Kagami shook his head.

____

“He isn't here yet? His place is closer than mine.” Hyuuga shrugged elaborately.

____

“He'll probably just pop up when we least expect it, as usual.”

____

Furihata arrived quickly with the janitor who, while sighing about the state of young people as adults are wont to do, knelt in front of the door and fiddled with some kind of long, metal toothpick thing. As the rest of the team arrived, they huddled around him, secretly curious and whispering about whether or not the man was a professional lock-picker, until he at last managed to fish a thin scrap of metal out of the keyhole.

____

“That should clear it. Try your key now, lady-coach.” Riko gave her beaming smile and chirped a “thank you” when her key slid in and turned without trouble.

____

“Hey,” Koganei piped up as they filed into the darkened gym. “Kuroko's still not here?”

____

“Nope,” Riko said, flipping the many light switches just inside the door. “If he takes much longer, I'll consider him late to a team meeting and double his--”

____

And then she screamed.

____

They'd all heard Coach Riko scream before—in rage, in celebration, in somewhat hilarious fright—but none of them had ever heard her scream like that. As they followed her gaze, their inquiries died on their lips, blood turning to ice. Kagami stared, his guts twisting, and was convinced he could physically feel the sight in front of him being carved into his mind.

____

_You will never forget this. Not as long as you live. ___

______ _ _

Their phantom player was hanging from the basketball hoop in only his boxers. Tape lashed his wrists to the front rim, encased his arms from wrist to elbow, and his legs from ankle to knee. His head was bowed, his eyes were closed, and his mouth was taped shut. Somehow that stuck out as the most heinous: Kuroko being denied something as basic as the ability to voice pain.

______ _ _

And how abundantly, disgustingly clear it was that there had been pain.

______ _ _

Kagami felt his feet moving, running across the floor, and heard his voice yelling.

______ _ _

“Kuroko!” He skidded to a stop beneath his partner, and for a moment stood there with his hands raised toward him helplessly. Every scrap of Kuroko's pale skin was bruised, burned, or oozing blood and _breathing, can't tell if he's breathing _\--__

________ _ _ _ _

“We have to cut him down. Somebody get something to cut him down!” Three different players sprinted away, and Kagami just kept standing there, not looking away for a second, as though if he did Kuroko would slip away, into the background like he always did, only this time he wouldn't come back. “Coach, the hospital. An ambulance.” 

________ _ _ _ _

Riko emitted a little gasp. “Oh! Right, of course I...” Her mouth shut audibly, and she snatched her phone from her pocket the same moment Hyuuga dashed back in holding a box cutter. He held it out to Kagami, his face white with poorly-concealed fear.

________ _ _ _ _

“W-we need something to, to reach him,” he stuttered, and Kagami's heart sank. Where were they going to get a ladder, or a step-stool, or...

________ _ _ _ _

Mitobe solved it by rushing under the basket and getting down on his hands and knees, giving Kagami a pointed look. He quickly stepped on Mitobe's back, and, stretching up, he started to saw at the tape, struggling to control the violent shaking of his hands as his nearness to Kuroko's unresponsive form made his heart pound with anxiety.

________ _ _ _ _

Half a minute, and the tape started to give. Hyuuga and Izuki stood beneath Kuroko and helped Kagami deliver him carefully to the ground. As Kagami cradled him, one arm wrapped around his back, Kuroko showed the first sign of consciousness with a tiny, muffled whimper as they lowered his arms toward his chest.

________ _ _ _ _

“Kuroko?” Hyuuga called, voice warbling. The phantom player's eyes closed more tightly, as though wincing. It was now easier to see the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

________ _ _ _ _

“Get that tape off his mouth,” Izuki demanded from where he knelt beside Hyuuga. The captain hesitated.

________ _ _ _ _

“But won't it hu--?”

________ _ _ _ _

“He's not breathing right,” Kagami interrupted. “We gotta get his mouth open.” In as smooth and quick a motion as he could, he peeled the offensive tape off, then hissed. “Damn, there's something...stuffed in there.” He managed to fish the awful thing out—a yellow ball the size of his fist—and flung it away in disgust. Kuroko gave one forceful cough and arched against his hold with a feeble gasp, his breathing coming in fast now through his mouth. As he settled back again his blue eyes managed to open halfway. A half-dozen people called his name, but his gaze remained unfocused, blinking in slow confusion.

________ _ _ _ _

“It's all right,” Kagami said quickly, trying to put himself in Kuroko's line of sight. “You're gonna be okay. The whole team's here and we're gonna get you to a hospital. You're safe, okay?” Kuroko's eyes seemed to focus on him as he spoke, but then closed again as his head fell against Kagami's shoulder, still gasping weakly.

________ _ _ _ _

“C'mon,” said Izuki. “Let's get him loose before the ambulance gets here.”

________ _ _ _ _

“Fine,” said Hyuuga, starting to get a firmer grip on his composure. “But we can't just peel it off; we don't know what kind of damage that might do. Kagami?”

________ _ _ _ _

“Right. Here.” Hyuuga took the knife and passed it to Izuki, who started carefully cutting down the center of the tape binding Kuroko's legs. Kagami could hardly stand the sight of the bloody rope marks that became visible, along with more bruises and burns. He turned his head away, looking up at the rest of the team instead. Some appeared lost, others anguished, still others tense, struggling to contain their emotions. All of them stood as though frozen in time, helpless.

________ _ _ _ _

As Hyuuga cut the tape from his arms, something fell from the space between them: Kuroko's light blue cellphone. Kagami caught it with his free hand, noting the flashing light for new messages. He frowned. Why would his attacker have bothered to--?

________ _ _ _ _

His train of thought was interrupted when Kuroko gave a loud cry and jerked, forcing him to wrap his other arm around him to hold him still. He looked at Hyuuga, an angry question ready on his lips, but he was forestalled by the horror on Hyuuga's face. He followed Hyuuga's gaze, and his stomach turned. The frozen team came alive as they covered their mouthes, stepped back. Riko asked from somewhere behind Kagami,

________ _ _ _ _

“W-what's wrong?”

________ _ _ _ _

“They...” Kagami swallowed as he tried to steel himself. “They broke his wrist. It...it looks really bad.”

________ _ _ _ _

No one spoke again until the ambulance sirens approached. Kuroko had long since passed out again, and as the paramedics arranged his limp form on the stretcher, Riko put a hand on Kagami's shoulder. He was still kneeling in the same spot, completely drained.

________ _ _ _ _

“You should go with him,” Riko said gently. “We'll make sure his parents know, and contact anyone else who should. The police will want to talk to us, and the teachers, too. We'll take care of it. You just stay with him.” Kagami nodded numbly, then walked outside to the ambulance and stood there until one of the medics curtly ordered him on board. He couldn't recall ever feeling so subdued, almost...timid. As though the world had just become a much bigger and more dangerous place. He found himself wondering if this was how Kuroko—always the smallest, always the weakest—saw the world.

________ _ _ _ _

Watching Kuroko's breath fog up the oxygen mask while the paramedics tended to his broken wrist, Kagami shuddered to think how his best friend would see it when he woke.

________ _ _ _ _


	4. Chapter 4

Akashi got the call as he was arriving at school. He didn't recognize the number, or the voice that spoke when he answered, but as soon as it told him Kuroko was in the hospital, every inch of him went suddenly cold. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, his entire focus narrowing to this conversation as he inquired further, his steady voice becoming deadlier the more he learned. Not ill, but injured. Not an accident, but an assailant. Not minor injuries, but severe. By this time, the voice sounded near tears, but Akashi had no intention of comforting its owner as he informed them that he would take care of contacting the rest of the Generation of Miracles. With curt thanks, he ended the call.

He walked calmly to class, told his teacher there was a family emergency, and left without further explanation. On the way out, he phoned his coach and told him he wouldn't be attending practice, and to continue the training regimen as he'd previously scheduled it. As he walked to the train station, he left a message for his father to let him know that he would be gone for the rest of the day at the very least.

He knew he should feel something, but he also knew that he wouldn't. He knew he would remain this way, everything clear and sharp, in perfect focus, until he saw Tetsuya with his own eyes. Then he wouldn't just feel.

He'd hurt like hell.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Aomine got the call on the roof, cutting class again. Initially annoyed at being disturbed, he picked up when he saw Akashi's number. Akashi cut him off as he started to ask what he wanted, telling him to listen carefully.

“Tetsuya was attacked and badly hurt last night. His team found him this morning and he's been taken to the hospital nearest Seirin High. I know you're not in class, so get there soon as you can. The others and I will meet you there. And Daiki? Don't do anything stupid. He needs you.”

He hung up before Aomine could say anything, not that he would have anyway. He snapped his phone shut, almost crushing it in his hand. He shook all over as his body pulsed with the need to break something, tear things apart, wreak destruction in a display of power that would somehow convince the universe and everyone in it that this should not be happening. Visions of faceless attackers—Tetsu's attackers—swam through his mind, and he want to rip them limb from limb.

But at the same time, helplessness trapped his arms at his sides, rooted his feet to the spot. There was nothing he could do, no enemy he could fight. Once again, Tetsu was hurting, and now that Aomine wanted more than anything on Earth to _make it stop _he was powerless to do for Tetsu what his former shadow had done for him. But...__

____

Aomine gritted his teeth and tore himself from where he stood. Every movement burned, like he was consumed by a fire, demanding restitution, that he could not quench. He owed Tetsu too much, cared about him too much, to do nothing.

____

No matter how insufficient a repayment he thought it to be, this time, when Tetsu needed him, he was going to be there.

____

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

____

Midorima tried to ignore the call like a good, attentive student. It buzzed three separate times before he realized continuing to ignore it would only be more disruptive. He politely excused himself outside, where he was surprised to see it was Akashi calling. He put the phone to his ear.

____

“Hello, Akashi. Hm? Kuroko?” His expression darkened. “What's wrong with him?” A long moment, in which the color drained from his face. All he could manage was a tiny “...oh.” Another pause, a hard swallow. “I...will come. Yes. Good...goodbye.”

____

The phone fell to his side, and he leaned back heavily against the wall. He stayed there for five minutes. Ten. He waited for the constricting pain in his chest to pass, but it didn't. It wouldn't. Nothing in the world of reason or fortune could take this horrid thing away. Time only wound it tighter, crushing him.

____

He should go back to class. He should get his things. He should rush over to the hospital, just as everyone else probably was. But what good could he do? How could he possibly make this better? He could hardly stand his own anguish; how could he ever bear to witness Kuroko's?

____

When he moved, he was unsteady as a child, and felt as small as one. Enough that he was ready to admit he was afraid. And there was only one person he trusted with that confession.

____

Takao's first class ended in twenty minutes.

____

______________________________________________________________________________________________

____

Kise was on a modeling job when he heard. He didn't often get out of school for work, but it was an outside shoot, and something about genuine morning light being unique, and Kise was hardly going to complain. He was busy texting Momo-cchi (an expert in under-the-desk communication) when Akashi-cchi's name popped up on his phone. Cheered by the unexpected call, he answered brightly.

____

“Akashi-cchi! What are you doing calling during school?”

____

The crew of the shoot were shocked when, only a few moments later, they overheard their usually-cheerful subject snarl “What are you saying?” into his phone. A pause, then, even louder, “That's a lie! They'd never let that happen!” Kise was on his feet, rage wafting off him. “No! You're lying, Akashi. That's not funny. That's not--” For a moment, the unusual fury cleared from his face, leaving something vulnerable and terrified, before it clouded again. “Fine,” Kise spat, then jammed the phone into his pocket and seized his coat.

____

“Where are you going?” asked his agent. He knew his client to be a bit spoiled, but never a diva.

____

“I'm leaving,” Kise snapped. “We were finished anyway, right?” He didn't wait for an answer before storming off.

____

Kuroko-cchi wasn't hurt. No one had attacked him. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, it wasn't worth thinking about. When Kise did, he sensed a tremendous swell of grief waiting to crash over him, to drown him in its depths. He couldn't face it. He wouldn't. Kuroko-cchi was okay.

____

_Please. You have to be. ___

______ _ _

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

______ _ _

Murisakibara was dozing when Himuro walked into his class. He blinked the sleep from his eyes as Muro-chin told the teacher that he needed to speak to his teammate about an emergency. Noting his grave disposition, Murasakibara followed him obediently, if a bit sluggishly, out of the room.

______ _ _

“I got a call from Taiga. They thought it was better if you heard it from me.”

______ _ _

“Huh?”

______ _ _

“It's about Kuroko. He's in the hospital, messed up pretty badly. Taiga took him there this morning.” He paused, as though expecting a coherent reply. Murasakibara just blinked at him.

______ _ _

“...Kuro-chin?” 

______ _ _

Muro-chin frowned sadly. “I'm going down there to make sure Taiga's okay, and you should come with me. Your old team's going to be there, probably along with the whole of Seirin.” A gentle smile. “Your friend will have no shortage of visitors.”

______ _ _

“He...he's hurt that bad?”

______ _ _

The smile died. “He is. Taiga was very upset. He said...well, nothing's certain yet. They hadn't heard back from the doctors when he called a few minutes ago. But...someone really wanted to hurt him, and...they did a thorough job of it.”

______ _ _

The world wobbled as the tears welled up and fell, silently running down his scrunched face. Muro-chin placed a tentative but reassuring hand on his arm.

______ _ _

“Do you want to come?” Murasakibara bobbed his head a little too hard, choked “Yes” a little too loudly. 

______ _ _

Muro-chin did all the explaining to teachers, the talking to the bus driver, the deciphering of the route, all the while carefully guiding the silently crying giant. 

______ _ _

Murasakibara didn't even try to stop.

______ _ _

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

______ _ _

It was quite the crowded waiting room that greeted the doctor when he came looking for his patient's family: Eight high school boys were on the edge of their seats, anxious and awkward. A girl with brown hair was sitting straight as a rail, holding it together. Two red-headed boys were standing, the taller one rocking impatiently and the other against the wall, arms crossed. A dark-haired boy leaned against the back of a chair next to the tall redhead, exuding concern and calm in equal measure. Sitting in the chair was a remarkably large young man, hunched and trembling. A boy with glasses looked up, eyes wide with fear, when he saw the doctor approaching. The blond pacing behind him was too agitated to notice, and the dark-skinned one sitting on the floor watched him come closer with tired eyes.

______ _ _

When he called his patient's name, the doctor was surprised when every one of them reacted, gasping, standing, stepping forward. He was even more shocked to hear a voice directly in front of him.

______ _ _

“Yes, that's my son. Excuse me? Doctor!” He jumped at the woman who seemed to materialize in front of him. How strange that he hadn't seen her. She was a bit short, yes, but not unusually so, and her features were quite striking.

______ _ _

Noting the crowd drawing hopefully near, he firmly insisted that Tetsuya's condition was private information, to which he could see many objections already forming. The woman merely nodded.

______ _ _

“But just so no one makes a scene...” She pointed to the taller red-head. “Kagami, you may come if you wish. And...what about you, Aomine?” The dark-skinned boy shook his head slowly.

______ _ _

“It's probably best if Akashi goes,” he said, his voice low and worn. The shorter red-haired boy stepped forward immediately, his face expectant.

______ _ _

The doctor led them into a small examination room not currently in use. The mother sat in the available chair, and he could tell from the way her face remained smooth that this was not the first time she'd waited for a doctor to deliver bad news. 

______ _ _

Years in the field made listing injuries easy as listing groceries, but it was often the specifics that really cut deep with friends and family. On alert for any volatile reactions, he summarized his patients's current condition—that he was stable, but unconscious—and went on to run through the list.

______ _ _

It wasn't a short one.

______ _ _

The mother wept without fighting it, simply letting the grief flow out of her. The boy named Akashi went so rigid he might have snapped himself in half, fingernails digging into his arms. Kagami just stood there, shaking violently. At first, the doctor though it might be with anger, until the boy opened his mouth and whispered brokenly.

______ _ _

“It shouldn't have been him. Anyone, anyone else...just...not _him. _”__

________ _ _ _ _

“Yes,” Akashi agreed fiercely, voice hoarse with emotion he was otherwise successful in suppressing. 

________ _ _ _ _

“ _Never _our Tetusya.”__

________ _ _ _ _


	5. Chapter 5

Kagami almost found it funny, how all of them tip-toed into the room and spoke in hushed voiced as though not wanting to wake Kuroko even though the phantom player had yet to stir since being loaded into the ambulance.

It took a long time for all of them to take a turn in the room. Midorima wasn't in for more than two minutes before he stumbled back out, pale and sweaty, hand pressed against his mouth as though he was going to vomit. Takao was at his shoulder, shepherding him out with an apologetic glance at the rest of them. Kagami had taken to loitering just down the hall from Kuroko's door—close enough to hear Kise's outburst of distress when faced with the reality of his friend's injury, see the shellshocked expressions of the Seirin players, and watch Murasakibara shamble out of the room with the same silent tears. Himuro, who had gone in with him, walked over to Kagami and asked gently, as he already had many times:

“Are you ready?”

And Kagami, as he had all that day, shook his head.

In a sense, he was ready. He was downright desperate to have any new image of Kuroko that could replace the one of him beaten bloody and dangling from the practice hoop, or struggling to breathe as he lay tightly bound in Kagami's arms. He was certain that Aomine, who had also declined to see him yet, had done so for the same reason: because they both suspected that once they saw Kuroko, leaving his side would be next to impossible. 

What he wasn't certain about was Akashi's reason for waiting just as long. Kagami still knew very little about the former Teiko captain, and couldn't get a read on what he was thinking, much less what he must be feeling.

In the end, it came down to the three of them. All the others had made their way back to their homes with varying levels of composure and requests to be updated. Himuro was staying at Kagami's place, having sternly insisted on not letting him be alone until things were more settled. Kuroko's mother, who had remained in the room with her son during all the other visits, was taking a break to get something to eat.

Kagami went through the door first. He didn't feel scared, exactly. Instead, a heavy numbness had dulled the edges of the anger, fear, sadness, and guilt that swirled around him. The further he got toward the prone figure of his friend, the nearer they pressed, as if to say, “No closer. Closer than this, and it'll hurt again.” He stopped at the foot of the bed, unable to move, waiting for the pain to receded to some bearable level.

There were machines in the room: little black screens with readouts against the wall, gently whirring boxes tucked in corners, and the bed itself, with its bulky bars and buttons. As Kagami registered the low beeping of the heart monitor, his own heart sank at just how fervently he wished that none of them were necessary.

Kuroko lay on his back, the hospital blankets pulled up over his chest. His arms were on top of the covers, wrapped and patched, with an IV in the back of his left hand and a cast on his right. Above the bandage wrapped around his neck, his face was utterly still and colorless. A oxygen tube ran under his nose; there was a square of gauze on his left cheek and a butterfly bandage just below his hairline.

Akashi's face and posture went incredibly soft, and his eyes, usually so sharp, were deeply wounded as he gently slid his hand into Kuroko's limp, bandaged fingers. Aomine pulled a chair closer, then crossed his arms and leaned them on the edge of the bed. His eyes were still tired and distant, but they never left Kuroko's face.

“Hey there, Tetsu.” The resigned way he said it sent awful shivers running down Kagami's spine; he sounded like he was already addressing a gravestone.

Kagami didn't remember what he himself had done—whether he'd spoken or moved or even breathed until they'd been told that visitation was over for the day. Then he stumbled home and went straight to the kitchen. Himuro appeared behind him and asked what he was doing.

“Making dinner for you.”

“You know you don't have to, Taiga.”

“Yes I do.”

“You must be tired, though. It isn't necessary--”

“It is!”

Himuro must have heard something in his voice, because he quietly relented, leaving Kagami to chop and fry and stir until his tears were spent. He served them both, but Himuro had to use his Big Brother voice to convince Kagami to eat.

“Do you need to talk?” Kagami numbly shook his head.

“There isn't anything to talk about. It just....it just...hurts.”

The next day, after sitting with Kuroko for an hour, Kagami felt not so much that the pain had lessened, but that he could better control it. He'd woken that morning almost guilty for how well he'd slept, exhausted from the stress. He'd gone to school only to end up going back home after enduring an hour of Kuroko's empty desk pressing against his back like a haunting spirit, then headed for the hospital when classes would have let out.

Kuroko's mother was back at home, making sure his grandmother was well taken care of before she came back to the hospital for a second night. His father was away on business and wasn't able to make it back until tomorrow. Akashi, who was missing school regardless, and Aomine, who _would _miss school regardless, had both readily agreed to take a shift during school hours. The rest of the visitors had respectfully promised not to swarm the hospital unless expressly given permission, and Kagami had spent some empty waiting time making sure he had all their numbers on one message, ready to alert them to any change.__

____

But there was no change. He'd seen it in Aomine's face as the powerful player had cast one last defeated look at his former shadow before leaving. The sight of Kuroko's still-lifeless face had sunk heavily into Kagami, as though anchoring him down for a long, bitter wait.

____

The door opened behind him, startling him. Two nurses walked in, and Kagami hurried out of their way. He lingered in the doorway, watching as they changed the IV, then drew back the covers and opened Kuroko's robe, exposing a snowstorm of gauze and medical tape. Kagami looked away, not wanting to see what was underneath, both for his own sake and for his friend's dignity, and waited until the nurses came back out and gave him the okay. When he took his seat again, Kuroko was just as still, but the covers were a little lower, and his robe wasn't closed as tightly. Kagami could see the edge of the bandage no doubt wrapped around the entirety of Kuroko's abused ribcage. What made it seem even sadder were the bruises that weren't covered: splotches of purple and blue splashed across his collarbone or peeking out from under the wraps on his arms, too minor to be a priority.

____

Kagami took a deep, slow breath, not the first he'd had to take to steady himself. Until now, he'd been coming to terms with the friend lying in a hospital bed and the doctor's list of injuries separately, as though the two had nothing to do with each other. Now, he tried not to resist as the doctor's words began to echo more loudly in his mind, connecting with the sight in front of him.

____

The contusions meant a beating, and a thorough one. The damage to the limbs should heal easily enough, but the internal damage to the torso was slightly more dangerous. The ribs? Several bruised, one cracked, and two outright broken.

____

The break on his right wrist wasn't as bad as it could have been. Kagami's sickening memory of Kuroko's bone tearing out from beneath his skin said otherwise, but since the break hadn't been directly on the joint and had been a single bone in the lower arm, the fracture was much simpler.

____

“Dry heat” burns, some of them first degree, lots of them second, left Kuroko's body marked with trails of tender pink flesh connecting swathes of ugly red blisters. Most would heal with proper treatment, but the worst of them would scar.

____

Rope burns. Due to the small size and tightness of the rope, likely some temporary pressure injuries to the nerves in his hands and feet, which could play havoc with his sense of touch and make use of them difficult.

____

What the rope burns connoted: that Kuroko had been bound for some time in a highly dangerous position. Resultant muscle strains in Kuroko's chest and abdomen. His shoulders had suffered similarly. No evidence yet that there was any alarming damage to the spine, but mobility would have to be limited during recovery.

____

A final blow connected, in part, to the rope burn on the front of Kuroko's neck. Mild but prolonged strangulation, the strain Kuroko's unnatural position had placed on his lungs, and the chances that his mouth had been blocked at the time added up to the reason Kuroko had yet to regain consciousness: oxygen deprivation.

____

The doctor had, in his summary, explained his belief that Kuroko's assailants likely hadn't intended to put his life at risk, but had underestimated what constituted a risk. Even just another gut punch in the wrong place could have done lethal damage if not treated immediately.

____

“It's a miracle he didn't smother. The state of panic alone would have made even a simple gag a potential death sentence.”

____

Kagami's eyes shifted to the hand nearest to his, Kuroko's left. It felt too strange to hold it, but every once in a while, like right now, he had the urge to place his hand over it and squeeze, just slightly, like some kind of mild encouragement. Like a way of reminding Kuroko that there were people here, waiting for him.

____

Kagami checked the clock: still some hours before his mom would get there. The nurses wouldn't be back for a long while. He looked over at Kuroko's face.

____

“Hey, Kuroko...” He stopped. That wasn't going to work. He turned toward Kuroko's chest instead, finding its rise and fall more reassuring. He cleared his throat, and tried again.

____

“Oi. I'm giving you a golden opportunity here, know that? I'm doing that stupid thing where you talk to someone even though they're unconscious. If you wake up, I'll be super embarrassed, and you can call me a huge idiot. I'll probably be saying juicy sentimental crap, too, that you'd love to tease me for. So that's your incentive, got it?”

____

He paused, pretending Kuroko's silence was an assent to his terms.

____

“I'm not worried about you, you know. I mean, I know you're going to wake up. The doctor said there's no reason you wouldn't, and it's not like you to keep everyone waiting. But I am worried about...what you'll be like. If you'll be...okay.”

____

He stopped again, remembering the empty absence of Kuroko's eyes staring up at him, as though his friend had retreated inward, far away. What would happen when he was forced to come back?

____

Kagami noticed that his hands were clenched tightly; he opened and closed them a few times to calm down before folding them, then continued quietly.

____

“I know who did this to you.”

____

The words hung in the air for a moment before the rest poured out.

____

“They left your phone. They took...they took pictures. I-I only saw the first one, I couldn't...I almost broke the phone, like if I destroyed it then they wouldn't have happened, and I didn't want anyone else to see...but instead I gave it to the police when they questioned me. I didn't tell them who I thought it was because I...I don't know. Maybe I was scared they wouldn't believe me.

____

“Or maybe Hanamiya should just get beaten to death.”

____

Kagami was certain that, had he told anyone else about the photos, he would have had no shortage of volunteers.

____

“You wouldn't like that, though. You don't like violence. You like to settle everything with basketball. But this...this isn't basketball anymore. This is just...sick. Basketball is suppose to be a damn sport, not something life-and-death where some lunatic freaking _tortures _your best friend. Dammit, Kuroko, I didn't think I could ever look at another basketball. I used to think you were so weird, you and the GoM, questioning whether you played for fun or not, as though there was some other, more abstract reason for playing. But now I guess I can see how you felt that way, after all that people have done to hurt you over it. I probably would have looked for some obscure reason, too, if someone had taken that much away from me.__

______ _ _

“But, because of you, I know that there is a reason. Since the day I met you you've shown me, shown everyone the good that basketball can do when done right. You should have seen how the doctor looked at us when we asked if you would be able to play again, as though we didn't know what was important. But that's because he hasn't seen you, hasn't stood with you on the court. It isn't that basketball gave you worth, but that you make basketball so much more valuable to everyone you play with.”

______ _ _

He wasn't crying, but he could feel that same kind of heaviness welling up in his chest, rising into his throat.

______ _ _

“So I won't quit just because some monster shoves all this awful stuff into the sport. I'll beat them, just like you did with your friends. I'll play it harder, and better. I won't let them take it away from me.”

______ _ _

He glanced up at Kuroko's face: still as a stone. He'd gotten it all out without getting caught. Some victory. He gave Kuroko's hand another light squeeze, but held it a little longer this time.

______ _ _

“I hope to God they haven't taken it away from you.”

______ _ _

________________________________________________________________________________________

______ _ _

At 4:58, Kuroko made a noise.

______ _ _

Kagami had never reacted to a sound faster. Instantly he was on his feet, already trying to talk himself down just in case he'd imagined—but no, Kuroko's face was lightly creased, and another noise followed the first: a low whimper. It wounded Kagami to think of how painful waking might be for his friend, but it excited him just the same.

______ _ _

After a lot of fluttering and false starts, his blue eyes finally managed to open. Kagami remained frozen for a moment, watching as they stared, heavy-lidded, at the ceiling, before he called softly.

______ _ _

“Kuroko?”

______ _ _

Kuroko's eyes drifted sluggishly toward the sound before he appeared to realize his head had to turn as well. When he saw Kagami his brow furrowed just slightly, and he blinked hard like one does when trying to focus. Then his lips parted and he mouthed Kagami's name, only managing to voice a few of the syllables.

______ _ _

“--ag--mi?”

______ _ _

Kagami wasn't sure if smiling as broadly as he did was quite appropriate, but he couldn't stop himself.

______ _ _

“Yeah, it's me.” Kuroko just continued to stare at him, his only expression one of tiredness, mouth still open as though he had more to say but no energy to say it. But that terrifying absence in his gaze was gone, and Kagami was relieved to see his friend looking back at him.

______ _ _

“You're gonna be okay,” he felt compelled to add. “You're safe here.” But Kuroko's eyes were already drifting shut again. He murmured something unintelligible, and then his mouth shut as he slipped away again.

______ _ _

Kagami walked quickly out of the room and found a nurse, and before long the doctor came in.

______ _ _

“You say he was awake?” he asked.

______ _ _

“Only for a minute, but he said my name.” The doctor nodded.

______ _ _

“An excellent sign. He'll likely come to more fully soon.” He then dismissed Kagami from the room for a while so he could reexamine him. Kagami stood in the hall, awash with a great calm once his excitement faded, and messaged his long list of contacts the good news.

______ _ _

_Kuroko woke up v briefly @5. Doctor with him now. Says he might wake up again soon. ___

________ _ _ _ _

He was still going through the replies pinging back to him when he heard the doctor's voice inside Kuroko's room, imploring someone to calm down. He poked his head in the door and saw Kuroko awake, staring up at the doctor and squirming. At least, that's what Kagami thought, until he heard Kuroko's small voice.

________ _ _ _ _

“Please...get...get a-away.” The boy broke off with a gasp of pain, but his wide eyes remained glued to the doctor's face; Kagami realized that his movements were actually feeble attempts to scoot back against the wall—an impossible feat, as he could hardly lift his head from the pillow. He rushed into the room.

________ _ _ _ _

“Kuroko!” he called, and tried to get the smaller boy to look at him. “Kuroko. Kuroko, calm down, it's okay.” Kuroko shook his head absently.

________ _ _ _ _

“No...no, they hurt...make them...stop.” His arms pushed weakly against the covers as he tried to retreat, but he ceased the movement with an even louder gasp. He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. “It hurts...” he wailed softly.

________ _ _ _ _

Kagami, in desperation, reached out and grabbed his arm, and the smaller boy jerked, locking wide eyes on him. Before Kagami could say anything, Kuroko's expression cleared slightly, confusion replacing fear.

________ _ _ _ _

“K-Kagami?” Kagami's breath left him in a rush of relief.

________ _ _ _ _

“Yes, yes I'm here, now stop moving so much.” Kuroko stilled obediently, probably hurting too much to continue anyway. “It's okay,” Kagami said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You're in the hospital. This is Dr. Hanima. He's just trying to help.”

________ _ _ _ _

Kuroko was composed in a few breaths, aside from the way his body continued to shake with fine tremors, either from pain or lingering fear. With some effort, he turned back toward the doctor. “So...rry...” he breathed.

________ _ _ _ _

The doctor smiled gently. “Not to worry. It's hardly surprising for someone in your situation.” He reached out slowly, as though to not spook his patient, and slid down the rumpled covers, checking the bandages beneath his open robe. “You're clearly still in pain,” he said sympathetically. “Anywhere in particular?”

________ _ _ _ _

“No...” The doctor frowned.

________ _ _ _ _

“All over, hm?” Kuroko nodded with some urgency. “We'll see what we can do about that.” He explained, mostly to Kagami, “I've adjusted the dosage for the pain medication. If he's still in pain, you can use this trigger to increase it. The morphine usually makes patients sleepy, so don't be surprised if he seems a little out of it or falls asleep.” With careful, efficient touches, he wrapped the robe around Kuroko's chest, gently lay his arms back at his sides, and tucked him snugly under the covers. “And if you need anything else, the call button is just here.”

________ _ _ _ _

Kagami thanked him, then settled down to wait for the pain meds to kick in. Kuroko's body, with what little strength it had, twisted lethargically and went completely limp by turns, as movement was agonizing, but keeping still was unbearable. Kagami tried to keep him distracted with a steady stream of talk about how everyone had been by to see him—maybe glossing over the more sad bits in what he hoped wasn't a glaringly obvious way—and how glad they would be that he was awake, until Kuroko finally started to nod off.

________ _ _ _ _

“Hey, Kag'mi?” he slurred.

________ _ _ _ _

“Yeah?”

________ _ _ _ _

“I' wass you, wuznit?”

________ _ _ _ _

“Huh?” 

________ _ _ _ _

Kuroko's eyes, already heavy with sleep, narrowed, as though struggling to remember something. “You were one...found me?” Kagami stiffened.

________ _ _ _ _

“Well, the whole team was there.”

________ _ _ _ _

“I 'member...wass you.” Kagami could tell he was too doped up to think about it further, so he just forced a sad smile.

________ _ _ _ _

“Yeah, I found you.”

________ _ _ _ _

Kuroko caught his lip between his teeth.

________ _ _ _ _

“Thank...you...” he said, with almost desperate sincerity; he was asleep before Kagami could reply.

________ _ _ _ _

But he replied anyway.

________ _ _ _ _

“You're welcome, Kuroko Tetsuya.”

________ _ _ _ _


	6. Chapter 6

Akashi watched Tetsuya closely for the next few days; he didn't like a great deal of what he saw.

He made a point of always arriving to his visits early or staying a bit late so he could see Tetsuya's manner when he was with different people. He was also there to accompany Ryota when he had finally calmed, and Shintaro when he was at last scolded into coming.

Tetsuya was, in some ways, remarkable in his recovery. Despite hardly being able to lift his head, he was nothing but cheerful with anyone from Seirin, asking questions as well as answering them in his usual candid manner. He also managed to soothe Ryota—who had been packed with nervous emotional energy—through constant reassurances that he was feeling okay, was going to be fine, was glad he was here. Even Shintaro felt better after his visit; he'd brought the day's lucky item—a package of blueberries—off of which Tetsuya sparked a conversation about whether the luck would hold if he were to eat the item, to which Shitaro stoutly objected, but conceded that there was likely no harm in eating them the next day, on which they would no longer be lucky, and by then the sharpness of Shintaro's guilt had been dulled. Atsushi had, of course, been easy to deal with, having shown up bearing edible gifts—several of which probably would have been discouraged by hospital staff—and mostly limiting his visits to subdued silence in which the two of them would put on the TV and neither of them watch it, enjoying the excuse to simply be around the other without having to talk.

But Akashi knew that Tetsuya's recovery wasn't nearly as rosy as he made it out to be.

Tetsuya was slightly more honest in the presence of himself, Daiki, or Kagami. He winced when he moved, jumped at voices in the hall, and sometimes tried to subtly adjust his morphine level, all things he had never openly done in the presence of Seirin, the others, or, to Akashi's knowledge, even his parents. But he was still very convincing as a boy who was shaken and wounded, but healing. Even slight inquires about his pain or the attack itself were met with nothing but polite dismissal. Akashi would have easily believed his front if not for his own intuition and Tetsuya's well-known bent for directing attention away from himself—even when proper attention was exactly what he needed.

And then there was the matter of the police.

Once Tetsuya was awake, it was only a matter of time before he was deemed ready for questioning, something that, by his own request, he did alone. Though not directly present, his parents were entitled to some basic information, information that Akashi then gleaned through plain and simple eavesdropping. The police were understanding, but disappointed in Tetsuya's testimony, which had been bare bones, detailing only very basic information such as the time and place of the attack and a description of the warehouse. He had, however, provided the identity of at least one of the attackers—information that Akashi both wanted to get and was scared to have—and expressed certainty that he could pick out the others from a lineup. However, the police were hesitant to go forward with any accusations without solid evidence to back them up, and Tetsuya simply hadn't give them anything more to go on.

Of course, Akashi hadn't wanted to overstep his bounds. He was, after all, only Tetsuya's former captain, and there were plenty of other people there to recognize Tetsuya's distress and remedy it—though Akashi could hardly contain his impatience waiting for them to do so.

Then, on a solitary evening visit, he entered Tetsuya's room to find the phantom standing in the dim light, good hand clasped around his IV pole, his face pale and stiff as a plaster mask. His eyes looked straight through Akashi, brimming with a kind of mindless terror that struck Akashi so hard his own nerves sang with fear.

“Tetsuya,” he said in his steadiest, warmest voice as he inched forward. “It's me, Akashi Seijuro. You're safe here. You're safe with me.” His searching hand found the call button and pressed it. He was close enough to see that Tetsuya was breathing far too hard for someone with broken ribs, and he was shaking all over, like the fear that had frozen him was trying to shatter its way back out. Halfway to him, still uttering soothing platitudes, Tetsuya's eyes managed to lock on him properly. Akashi was wondering if he dared touch him, to reach out and steady him...

An orderly appeared in the doorway, and the mere sight of him was enough to startle Tetsuya like a frightened deer. He jerked back, but lingering nerve damage made his grasp on his support weak, and his feet numb and unsteady. He toppled to the ground and immediately curled in on himself, crying out in pain. Akashi was on his knees immediately, and as he wrapped his arms around his former teammate he heard the orderly calling down the hall:

“He's been on the move again, come help!”

Akashi learned, once Tetsuya has been lifted back to bed and settled down with a mild sedative, that Tetsuya had been suffering from these walking terrors for the past two nights, sometimes making it out into the hallway before someone saw him and managed to either talk him around or simply catch him when he collapsed. The orderlies weren't surprised.

“He's had plenty of nightmares. Sometimes patient wake up thinking they're still in them, and that they've got to get out. As you can imagine, it's dangerous for the more severely injured.” Akashi could imagine quite easily; Tetsuya had yet to even sit up on his own while properly awake, much less start walking about.

He spent the next few minutes reassuring a half-lucid Tetsuya, who kept apologizing despite hardly being conscious of what he'd done. He was still shivering, covered in cold sweat, but Akashi could see him gritting his teeth with effort as he forced himself back to his regular composure, just in time to present to his parents an appropriately frightened, yet reassuringly “fine” son. It made Akashi want to take him by the shoulders and shake him.

He asked Tetsuya's father out into the hall for a very serious talk. To hell with respectful distance; that resolve had failed the second he'd held the fallen Tetsuya, who, thinking he had just failed to escape, had tearfully begged Akashi not to hurt him.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was on Tuesday, exactly a week since Tetsuya had woken up, that the five of them assembled in his room. Tetsuya was reclining on his raised bed, and had scooted over so Daiki could take the spot to his left. Shintaro was sitting in one chair on the left, while Akashi was in the other at Tetsuya's head. Ryota and Atsushi were also on Tetsuya's side, the former sitting on the foot of the bed and the latter merely leaning on it from where he sat on spare blankets on the floor. If Tetsuya had a clue that something was afoot—which of course he must have—he gave no outward indication

In some ways, Tetsuya looked better: several of his bandages had been removed where bruises and burns had faded, including the ones on his face, and the nerve damage had diminished to nothing, taking with it the numbness of his extremities. But in a lot of ways he almost seemed worse as more was revealed about his condition. The loss of oxygen caused muscle pain and weakness, as well as difficulty breathing, which kept him tethered to a cannula. The strained muscles and broken ribs still made it impossible for him to sit up without severe pain, and he'd started having headaches that were so bad he wouldn't speak during one.

But Akashi wasn't here to help with any of that. He was here for the shadows under his eyes, the new thinness of his frame, the reports of continuing nightmares. He was here for the way Tetsuya was looking at him now, with the same ripple-less calm that Akashi had encouraged in him since middle school.

He was about to throw a stone in the pond.

At first, Tetsuya just blinked at him, then asked him to clarify what he'd just said.

“I've spoken with your parents and the police, Tetsuya,” Akashi explained patiently. “They both agreed we could try.”

“I don't understand.” But he did understand; he understood perfectly, which was exactly why he was stalling.

“I want you to tell us about that night,” Akashi repeated gently.

“Why?”

“Because you need to,” Daiki said firmly. His voice brokered no argument, but Akashi was already prepared to make one.

“You can't tell anyone else,” he said simply, and if Tetsuya flinched it was too quick to comment on. “You love your parents, but they are and always have been a constant in your life; you don't want to ruin that with unpleasant truths.” Ryota cut a look at him sideways, probably not agreeing with the bluntness of his speech, but Akashi thought it best to be expedient. “You can't tell you friends,” he went on. “You want to protect them, and it would only hurt you more to see them stop smiling because of you. The police? They're complete strangers. You might trust them with the crime but not with your experience. Which leaves...” His voice suddenly took on a much more affectionate tone. “...us.”

Tetsuya checked to see if the other four surrounding him shared this sentiment, likely hoping for a weak link to aid his escape. When he didn't find one, he turned back to Akashi.

“I can't,” he said simply.

“Yes, you can.” It was the typical response; Akashi had said it only to rile Tetsuya, perhaps rouse him from his stillness with the frustration of being so bluntly contradicted.

But Tetsuya only shook his head, still deadpan as he repeated: “I can't.”

Akashi took a moment to gather himself, to monitor how the others were reacting...and then realized that that was it:

Tetsuya was predicting how everyone would react.

When Daiki got frustrated he would give up on the question, and Shintaro hardly wanted the answers in the first place. Ryota would be hurt, then offended, then would throw up his hands and stalk off. Atsushi would quickly grow bored of arguing and stop, retreating if it went on without him. And Akashi? Tetsuya probably thought he would either tear the answers out of him with demands and glares, or, perhaps even worse, would reveal his complete apathy toward the whole business and make his exit without a backward glance.

And in the end Tetsuya would get exactly what he wanted and exactly what he didn't deserve: to be left alone with all his pain still bundled up inside.

A sudden fierceness overwhelmed Akashi, but it was unlike any he had felt before. This was not anger or spite, confidence or joy. This was a ferocious sadness, a sorrow that stood up and screamed that it would not be ignored. Akashi could tell from Tetsuya's eyes that it was showing on his face, and he let it. He took hold of Tetsuya's arm and leaned closer to him.

“That is not who we are anymore, Tetsuya,” he whispered fervently.

At last, a reaction: a slight widening of the eyes, and a sad furrow between them. Akashi pushed his advantage.

“You changed us. We may still be the same people, but there are things we no longer allow.” He sensed the others all unconsciously leaning closer; Daiki laid a hand on the phantom's shoulder, which had begun to shake. All of them thrummed with the same debt to be paid.

“We will not allow you to endure this alone.” Akashi, who had been so certain all his life, had never been more certain of anything than this. “We are _not _going to leave you.”__

____

And Tetsuya broke.

____

If anyone felt any discomfort at the sight of their phantom crying, they banished it immediately. Akashi cradled the back of Tetsuya's head as the smaller boy buried his face in Akashi's shoulder, his arms still hanging limp in his lap. Daiki pressed against his side, sliding his arm around him as though holding him together as he sobbed. And when he could breathe again, Tetsuya lay back, half on top of Daiki despite his very Japanese sensibilities about touching, and told them.

____

About how they'd sometimes let him stumble a few feet toward freedom before they beat him down again, until a baseball bat ensured that he couldn't even stand.

____

About the humiliation of lying on the cement, stripped and bound, as they spit on him.

____

About the helpless pain every time they found a reason to tighten his bonds—because he'd still managed to thrash when they strangled him, or because his back managed to arch slightly away from Hanamiya's lighter.

____

About how Hanamiya would jokingly ask him if he wanted the ropes tighter, or the burns to last longer, playfully misinterpreting his desperate, gagged pleading.

____

About the sheer terror of being too weak to escape as they held his arm out over an iron support bar, Hanamiya swinging the bat down at his extended wrist.

____

About their hands all over him as they mummified his limbs.

____

About not fighting as they dumped him back in the trunk, dragged him into the gym, and hung him by his screaming shoulders.

____

About feeling, through a haze of blackness, the buzzing of his phone between his arms, knowing that help was so close, and yet so horrifically far...until he gave up his grip on consciousness.

____

The telling was halting, stuttering. Every once in a while, when the words began to pour too quickly out of Tetsuya, and he looked almost frightened, as though the horrors were dragging themselves out past his lips like vile, monstrous things he couldn't help vomiting up...they stopped him, helped him breathe. They wanted the story, however awful it was, to be his for the telling.

____

Though they could not conceal their reactions, they all fought to control them. None of them yelled. None of them covered their ears. None of them came unhinged, screaming and cursing.

____

And none of them left.

____


	7. Epilogue

A balance was struck after that.

Seirin was there to smuggle Kuroko vanilla shakes and beg permission for Nigou to visit. As soon as he was able, they took him out in a wheelchair, first for short walks, then to practice, then to watch games together. They gave him careful, one-armed hugs and ruffled his hair, and were always ready to give a smile whenever they thought Kuroko needed one. And Kuroko was honest with them, answering truthfully when they asked about his pain levels or his anxieties. Each of them was surprised by how comforted they were by this in return.

The GoM was there to understand why Kuroko hated the sound of car trunks shutting, why his hands went to his neck when he was startled. They were there for the panic attacks when someone grabbed his wrist, and to talk Kuroko down when he called on his new silver cell phone, only half-coherent, after nightmares. They were there to be angry about it, to be the ones who kept up with the news from the police and fed it to Kuroko alongside his parents. And Kuroko never expressed frustration with them, or thought it shameful that he required such defending. His humility and strength touched them all over again.

Kagami was a middle ground. Though he never said, Kuroko had told him more about the attack, but had done so in a slower, more natural way, still keeping some details back. But Kagami took this knowledge on a practical level: he learned Kuroko's triggers, even if he didn't understand all of them. He kept up to date on his injuries, conditions, and medications. He curtly assured Kuroko that the attack was in no way his fault, and that it in no way reflected poorly on his character, either before or after the fact. And Kuroko thanked him by working hard in his physical therapy, pushing to his limits but not past them—at least, not yet. His astonishing ability to be weak in the strongest way possible reminded Kagami how lucky he was to be partners with him.

Bigger milestones came and went. The police located the warehouse, and found Kuroko's DNA all over it...and, eventually, the attackers' as well. Hanamiya denied involvement, but the other teammates Kuroko identified, once they found out there was DNA evidence, confessed immediately, turning on each other. Akashi and Midorima both vowed to do all they could to ensure a swift trial, and to support Kuroko as he was forced to face his attackers and testify.

Kuroko was finally released from the hospital, prompting a celebration. He continued to go to therapy often, but Coach Riko and the therapist were in almost constant contact, so by the time Kuroko was allowed to go back to practice (which prompted _ecstatic _celebration), both of them knew exactly how to best enable Kuroko to work hard toward regaining his strength without further injury.__

____

There were times when things were not so smooth: When Hanamiya started screaming profanities at the sight of Kuroko, who reacted by vanishing into thin air, found an hour later hiding in a storage closet, curled up tightly and wary of Aomine when he approached. When the doctor ordered extra tests concerning Kuroko's difficulty breathing, warning that the damage could be permanent. When one of his headaches got so bad he simply put his head down on his desk, hands clasped over his ears, and refused to move or speak.

____

But it was all worth it: in the end, Kuroko made it back to the court. And everyone who watched, either from the bench, from the stands, or from right there on court with him, knew that this—this humble power, this honorable determination, this calm passion—was the basketball which Kuroko plays.

____

And nothing could ever take it from him.

____

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback is highly encouraged and super-appreciated. Thank you for your kind attention!


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